


Repair Manual

by spuffyduds



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: 100-1000 Words, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-10
Updated: 2010-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-06 02:48:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spuffyduds/pseuds/spuffyduds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm tagging my X-Men fic as Movieverse because that is the casting I see in my head, but honestly I have read/watched so many X-men continuities that they all blend together in my brain into one vast Jungian Uber-X. So, if you're one of those impressive people who CAN keep straight which canon is which, my fic may hurt your soul.</p><p>Also, this is set a couple of weeks after "Some Sort of Sense," also in the archive, but you don't really need to read that first.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Repair Manual

**Author's Note:**

> I'm tagging my X-Men fic as Movieverse because that is the casting I see in my head, but honestly I have read/watched so many X-men continuities that they all blend together in my brain into one vast Jungian Uber-X. So, if you're one of those impressive people who CAN keep straight which canon is which, my fic may hurt your soul.
> 
> Also, this is set a couple of weeks after "Some Sort of Sense," also in the archive, but you don't really need to read that first.

Logan's pretty sure he heard a _giggle_ from Scott.

"I can't believe you talked me into this," Logan whispers. He's read almost all of the graffiti in his stall, and his thighs are starting to hurt from balancing crouched on the toilet seat.

"It is a bit beneath our dignity," Scott says from the next stall. "Well, mine, anyway." And, yeah, definitely a giggle. But then he stifles it, because one of the library staff walks in. After a few steps there's a pause, when the guy is probably checking for feet under the stall doors, and then he turns off the light, opens the door, yells, "Restrooms are clear!" and leaves.

They wait a few more minutes to make sure everybody's out, then scramble down, groaning at their stiff muscles, and go out into the library.

"_Why_ are we doing this again?" Logan says.

"I wasn't done looking at the Chilton manual."

"You found your make of motorcycle."

"Yes, but I've made enough modifications that it's kind of a cross-breed by now. I need to look at the repair specs for some other models."

"And you couldn't just check it out why?" Logan says. He gives Scott a maximum eyebrow lift.

"Lost my card," Scott says. "Actually, I think it melted during that last fight with the--"

"Hey, fearless leader? Sign says a replacement card is a _dollar_. If you're flat broke from buying, what, Mozart cd's and skin cream, _I_ coulda floated you a dollar. You just wanted to be here after hours."

"It _is_ kind of fun," Scott says. "Quiet."

"Quiet and fun are not the same thing. _Loud_ and fun are the same thing," Logan says, but he follows Scott back to the auto repair section.

Scott glances up at the dim emergency ceiling lights, digs a tiny flashlight out of his pocket and goes back to flipping through the motorcycle specs.

_Huh_. Looks like he _planned_ not to finish with his book until the place was dark.

Logan scoots a little closer. Because he can't see the page, otherwise.

"Isn't all this shit online, anyway?" he says.

"It's not the same. You look at the actual manuals, here, they've got oil stains from where people had them spread out next to their bikes while they were working on them. They _smell_ like motorcycles, and the page edges are worn soft, and...it's just more of a...sensory pleasure than the internet."

"Uh-huh," Logan says. He shifts closer still until, every time he breathes, he can actually see Scott's hair riffling a little. Scott still isn't looking up from the bike diagram, but Logan's guessing he's having to try really hard not to.

"We used to come here sometimes," Scott says. "Jean and I. She always--it made her--" He shivers suddenly, but Logan can't tell if it's from the memory or from the breathing-on-the-hair thing. "Well--not the motorcycle manuals, obviously--she liked the oversized art-print books--"

"Summers," Logan says. "You're _babbling_." He's pretty sure his sideburns are brushing Scott's cheek now. "How long did you have to wait?"

"What?" Scott says.

"In the foyer. At the mansion. How long did you hang out there until I happened to come by, so you could go through that whole, "I'd like to be alone, I don't want company, oh all right, no _you_ have to sit on the back of the bike, yes you _do_ have to wear a helmet" speech?"

"I didn't wait at all!" Scott says. He pulls back, puts the big oil-stained book in between them. "I was just on the way out. I did _not_ want you to come."

"Fine," Logan says, "I won't come," and he takes the book out of Scott's hands, shoves it randomly on a shelf. Drops to his knees and unzips Scott's pants, and he was expecting Summers to argue at least a little just so he could say he had, but he doesn't say a word, just leans back against the shelves, spreads his arms out.

Logan's distracted for a second looking at that, Scott's long thin fingers gripping the shelf edges, but then he remembers what he's doing, pulls at the pants and boxer briefs until they're down around Scott's knees.

And then he has this moment of--_fear_ or something, his stomach gets fluttery and weird, so he laughs, says, "I can't remember ever doing this when I wasn't kneeling in a puddle of beer in a bathroom. Hoped it was beer, anyway."

"You're _disgusting_," Scott says, and weirdly that makes Logan feel better, so he says, "Yeah, that's why you're here," and takes Scott in his mouth.

It doesn't take long. Scott's hands come down into Logan's hair, and the hands are doing some of the gripping pulling faster-faster stuff, but also a little of the slow hair-stroking stuff. Logan's wondering if Scott's going to pull out when he comes, but he doesn't, and Logan swallows and thinks, "That is what Scott tastes like, that is _Scott_, right there," and he can't seem to think anything else for a while until Scott pulls him back up to standing.

He's swaying a little and his knees hurt, and when Scott pulls him in close and starts going for his belt buckle he says "No."

"Fair play," Scott says.

"No."

"Come on," Scott says. He runs his fingers lightly down Logan's zipper, and Logan shudders. "You're in a bad way there. You can't get on a motorcycle like that."

"_No_," Logan says, and he has no idea why. He's a fucking idiot, apparently.

They stand there for a minute in the dark, hanging on to each other and breathing loudly.

"Twenty minutes," Scott says.

"What?"

"Twenty minutes, okay? I stood around in the foyer for twenty minutes until you came by."

"Oh," Logan says, and grabs Scott's hand, and moves it back to his zipper.

 

\--END--


End file.
